


Best & Brightest

by LadyVader



Category: Inception (2010)
Genre: F/M, First Time, PWP, Post Movie
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-12-25
Updated: 2010-12-25
Packaged: 2017-11-09 13:43:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,229
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/456091
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyVader/pseuds/LadyVader
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Miles asked him if he was looking to corrupt one of his students, Cobb had no idea just how right he was. (Post Movie fic)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Best & Brightest

CHRISTMAS GIFT FIC FOR [](http://arineat.livejournal.com/profile)[**arineat**](http://arineat.livejournal.com/)

~

He’d vowed to stay clear of the _seedier_ side of the dream business (as Miles had continually referred to it) once he finally, _finally_ made it back home – promised himself and his beautiful, wonderful children that he’d never leave them again.

Eighteen months passed and the needy clutch of love swirling in his gut made it easier to be in different rooms, buildings, and areas from the kids and, frankly, it was just as well – Phillipa, for all his still seeing the screaming, gummy mass first pressed into his arms, no longer took kindly to Daddy shadowing her play-dates and even James seemed to relish their time together more when there was time apart in between.

So he engaged a sitter, Mrs Appleby from seven doors down (she’d not known Mal, it helped), and took himself off. He took long walks, went to the movies, even watched the occasional game at the local bar – it was all somewhat boring, of course, when you knew what wonders lay out there in the world, just waiting to be reworked, twisted and reborn into beautiful new heights of human creativity, but he’d chosen fatherhood, had craved it for so long that he didn’t quite know what to make of the empty space somehow still inside him. It wasn’t Mal – he dreamt of her often, soft, forgiving and beautiful in a way he hadn’t allowed himself to remember in the longest time, but blurring at the edges so the pain was more an echo, not the void itself.

Then, one day, a phone call – so seemingly ridiculous yet somehow _unsurprising_ that Cobb wondered how he’d not seen it coming, back when Saito first sought him out.

“Mr. Cobb – whilst I _appreciate_ your current desire for domestic normality, I have a job that requires your skilful team and touch.”

Cobb’s stomach twisted and he told himself it was _not_ anticipation.

“They’re not my team I – I’m retired, Saito. You know that, besides Arthur is _more_ than capable of whatever touch you need, from what I hear he, Ariadne, and Eames have made quite the name for themselves.”

He could _feel_ the satisfaction rolling from Saito’s voice before he even spoke the words, “Yes – they call them ‘ _Cobb’s Holy Trinity_ ’.”

Dom rested his forehead against his kitchen wall and sighed heavily, already knowing he was likely to take the job, but he decided to resist for a further half hour, just to make his point.

+++

It felt _good_ to be in a suit again, Cobb mused, smiling at the sensation of a chilled champagne flute against his lips. It felt good to dress and know there would be no spaghetti sauce smeared on him within hours, felt _great_ to be groomed to the point of _knowing_ you looked good. Several women (and men for that matter) had already favoured him with lingering glances, coy smiles directed his way as they met his eyes and he hid his smirk in another sip from his glass.

It had been so long, _too_ long, since he had felt so satisfied with life – too long a time a grieving widower, hunted for his loss, a father kept from his children, but today, _tonight_ he felt just like his old self again. Not Daddy. Not _Poor Broken Dom_... Just himself; a man who happened to be really, _seriously_ fucking good at his job. He didn’t bother to hide his smile at the thought.

It was good to be back.

Arthur (amazing, fantastic, loyal, dependable Arthur) had done all of the legwork as it were – he’d run the architecture with Ariadne in Paris, swept by Mombasa for Yusuf, apparently picking up Eames en route (if you believed _that_ ) between there and Japan where he’d spent countless hours running the scenario with Cobb via an EXEPTIONALLY secure line.

It was simple, almost beneath them, but for Saito it was _everything_.

_“My wife and I have been on good terms for the entirety of our marriage; it is why we wed to begin with, but I know enough of her to worry that should we divorce and she take badly to the reasoning behind it, she may not only take the majority of my fortune, but also turn the children against me. This, I cannot allow.”_

_“So – you want me to extract her likely reaction to the possibility of your leaving her?”_

_“For a man. A much younger man, Mr. Cobb – women rarely like to be replaced, let alone with someone almost half their age.”_

_“And if she DOES react badly?”_

_“Then I will expect just as good a job on her as you performed on my beloved, Mr. Cobb – you will plant the idea that she strongly wishes for me and Robert to be happy with one another.”_

Cobb had repressed the entirely inappropriate desire to chuckle at Saito’s stern tones.

_“In that case, Mr. Saito, I suggest we extract precisely what you want to hear.”_

Now, with the plans in place, covered for every exigency, they were all assembled at a massive function (not dissimilar from the original dream Arthur & Cobb had trapped Saito in) with hundreds of lavishly dressed guests milling about them and ready to slip away with Miyuki Saito and delve into her thoughts.

Cobb scanned the room with a mock nonchalant gaze, trying to locate the others. He’d seen Eames earlier, slimmer and clean shaven, almost nondescript as a waiter but for the gleam in his eye that Cobb knew nothing but the threat of limbo could extinguish; and Arthur was likely somewhere further securing the area, with Yusuf already hidden already waiting in their prepared room, that only left –

“Hello, stranger.”

Cobb smiled, taking another unnecessary sip from his drink as he contemplated casually walking away from the voice at his back. They really shouldn’t be seen to converse, but Ariadne was the only member of the team he’d not seen since arriving and the temptation to turn and smile was too much.

“Hello, yourself...” he began as he turned, only to silence himself, clicking his jaw shut before he could gape and embarrass himself.

Ariadne had blossomed, it seemed, in the time Cobb had been gone. She stood before him now with almost no trace of the wide eyed but brilliant ingénue who had willingly endangered herself for both his own good and that of the team.

_Don’t lose yourself_ – they were words that came back to him at the oddest moments, like now, facing a tiny slip of a thing in a tight, burnished gold dress just curving over small, high breasts and stopping roughly midway down milky, sleek thighs, her hair and face styled straight out of a magazine – almost unreal, alien to him with her smiling, glossed lips and long, tousled hair... _and her eyes..._

He smiled, finally, after what must have seemed an eternity of staring. Her eyes were _exactly_ her.

“You look amazing. I barely recognised you.”

Her eyebrows shot into her hairline and she laughed, though her mouth twisted downwards briefly.

“Gee thanks, I think – good to see you, too.” She shook her head, amused, and he automatically lifted a hand to rest it briefly on her shoulder.

“I’m sorry – children aren’t big on social niceties. I’m rusty. Let’s start over – it’s wonderful to see you, Ariadne, oh and also, you look very beautiful tonight.”

She rolled her eyes but blushed, not prettily but with her entire face suffusing with colour and Cobb took a tiny step backwards because it really _must_ have been too long for his body to respond with such sudden heat to a pretty girl in a short tight dress, blushing before him. Because of him.

He shook his head slightly and felt his old habitual squint re-emerge. He forced it away, blinking rapidly as he smiled tightly. “Come on," he said softly, “the fireworks are starting soon, we should move closer to the doors.”

He gave her a small nod and stepped away. As they both disappeared into the surrounding crowd he firmly pushed back the notion that she’d looked disappointed by his dismissal.

+++

The setup was impeccable, both precise and dreamlike all at once – yet further proof that Ariadne’s influence was bleeding through Arthur’s somewhat more pedantic designs – Miyuki reclining in the comfort of her private home (she kept a separate residence from Saito now that the children were grown) unaware that momentarily Eames (as Saito) would come to her and tell her of his new love, even as Arthur cracked open her antique _Tansu_ chest for her true feelings.

Miyuki had servants, enough that it was worth Cobb and Ariadne remaining without, Arthur more than capable of handling any projections who might make their way into the domicile, Cobb feeling somewhat disquietingly content to have a Beretta in hand again, casting the odd sidelong glance toward Ariadne with her own amusingly oversized Desert Eagle clutched capably between her palms.

They made idle chitchat, incredibly idle, in fact – several times he could have supplied her with more in depth answers but he preferred to deflect, let her talk about her own journey into illegal (addictive, _beautiful_ ) dream theft, watching her lips form the words whilst he nodded and replied noncommittally, making sure to never stare at either her eyes or mouth for too long -- _but he wanted to, God how he wanted to._

He nodded at her latest point, trying to recall if she’d been this wholly captivating back when he’d still been twisted, misshapen under the weight of his grief and guilt over Mal – _beautiful, trusting, wonderful Mal_ – if he’d simply just blinded himself to the lure of all other women with his dear wife lost to him... or if months of nothing but parenthood and easy, warm living had made it all too easy to notice and _enjoy_ the sharp burn of Ariadne’s star rising in his wake.

He wet his lips, eyes still on her in what he hoped was a pleasant, non-predatory way, wondering if there was any right way to inquire as to how old she was these days (had she graduated or just left her studies for dream-sharing? He couldn’t remember with her doe-eyes on him) or if it would even matter at this point.

He cleared his throat idly, preparing to include himself in the conversation going on _outside_ his libido, only to watch her jaw drop, rigid disbelief holding her wide-eyed and still until she shrieked “DOWN!” and pushed him to the floor.

She hissed as they collided with the terraced ground and Cobb’s gaze fixed in horror at the bullet wound bleeding sluggishly at the curve of her shoulder. He rolled them both behind the low wall separating the veranda from the rest of the grounds as gunfire rained down around them, impacting into the walls and floor with a high pitched cracking sound that Cobb felt himself thrill to hear once more, despite their rather insistent peril.

“Cobb, you son of a bitch!” Ariadne spat, shooting the first of the now raging projections to break free from the confines of the house, her aim steady even as blood seeped down her arm, “You told Arthur she was gone for GOOD, you PROMISED she wasn’t an issue – I even SAW YOU resolve your guilt – _WHAT WAS SHE DOING HERE?”_

He clenched his jaw, eyes closing momentarily in horror. “You saw Mal?” he whispered raggedly.

“We don’t have time for this.” she snarled, jerking herself upright, almost dancing to the wall with a ruthless economy of motion that put Cobb in mind of Arthur, but with the sort of grace that had his mouth dry just watching her. _Arthur’s protégé_ , he thought distractedly, _I wonder if that means he’ll shoot me if I touch her_...? Unbidden images tumbled over themselves in his head and he cursed himself briefly for not preparing himself for the loss of subconscious thought control as (concurrent with the thought of pressing his mouth to the tender hollow at Ariadne’s collarbone) Mal’s shade stepped out from behind one of the larger hedges, a missile launcher trained on them.

This time, he didn’t hesitate.

He felt Ariadne’s finger’s digging into his bicep, heard her calling his name over and over in the soft distressed tones he remembered from her invasion of his dreams before, both of them watching as Mal crumpled, an ugly, gaping hole in her forehead as she hit the ground.  
He met Ariadne’s eyes briefly, her brown gaze shocked but steadily hardening as she turned to shoot yet another projection as they came roaring from the house. Together they picked off the angry, gathering mob and hoped they could still buy Eames the time necessary to complete the job.

They emptied the grounds before making their way (quietly) through the house, joining up with Arthur en route, who fortunately kept his recriminations to his standard grade A frown (never a good sign, but at least not an _immediate_ worry) and Cobb found himself steadily feeling more at ease with the situation. There had been a mishap – it had been _dealt_ with and the repercussions were nothing they couldn’t handle, and as the music began to rise through the pillars of their dream, Cobb was almost heady with the sensation of being back in the game, where he belonged – he could do _anything_ here, even if he was no longer the best, it wouldn’t be long until he was once more.

_Non, Je Ne Regrette Rien..._

But then the kick, and Ariadne’s eyes burned into him, recriminating and hurt, and then they were awake, pulling themselves loose of the PASIV, Yusuf ushering Saito back into the room where he would discover his wife had nodded off and come to wake her for the rest of her party.

They had roughly 8 minutes before that would occur and so (with Eames hearty clap to Saito’s shoulder as he promised an in-depth run down later, winking though and wishing him joy) they scattered to the far edges of the party once more, Eames and Yusuf disappearing into the ether.

Cobb braced himself, forearms against the brick wall of the balcony, looking out into the night, the other guests still milling around, talking nonsense and swilling complex cocktails like water, just catching Ariadne stalk from the great ballroom, her reflection bright against the dark glass doors and he clenched his jaw. It had really been _far_ too long since he’d had to consider how best to attract, or apologise, and abruptly his quiet little life was almost beginning to seem preferable to this sudden re-emersion into who he used to be. _Almost._

“What happened?” Arthur appeared at his side; far away enough to seem as though he was merely using the opportunity to light a cigarette that Cobb knew the point man would only pretend to smoke, having a deep abhorrence of the habit.

“Mal.” Arthur stiffened at the word before forcibly, visibly, relaxing his posture once more.

Cobb sighed. He could hardly blame him for the reaction.

“I thought – you said...?” Arthur was nothing if not usually concise and Cobb felt a pang, the pained scream as the bullet shattering Arthur’s knee having long been a recurring nightmare for him, Mal’s malevolent ghost having scarred them both.

“She’s gone – or she was; I... I don’t know what made her reassert herself tonight.”  
Arthur’s mouth tightened thoughtfully as Cobb pretended to be regarding the night sky versus the face of his friend for further reactions.

“I don’t know – and you say you don’t – but having seen Ari’s face, I’m going to go ahead with the supposition that there’s more going on than you’re telling me, or that you’re telling yourself.”

He stubbed out his cigarette, turning and bumping shoulders with Cobb casually as he moved back past him. “Whatever it was – fix it. It's good to have you back.”

Cobb closed his eyes. He _knew_ Mal was gone – he’d used the PASIV enough on his weaker days back home to know she no longer haunted his memories, so to see her resurface like that, literally on the heels of his thinking of her... No. _Not_ thinking of her. Wondering if his guilt over her had blinded him to Ariadne’s beauty – wondering if he could _touch_ the bright, blazing woman who had once been Miles’ prized student.

Ariadne.

_“Ariadne_ ,” he whispered and winced, recalling the fury in her eyes, before pushing away from the balcony and venturing indoors, hopefully to put right the rift his newfound attraction had caused before it could widen between them.

He found her in what seemed to be one of several small libraries, dotted around the premises like normal people would have closets, angrily pacing back and forth like she’d expected him to follow much sooner.

She paused, mid-pace, as he closed the door behind him, her arms crossed over her chest in a way that forced her already pushed up cleavage into an even more eye-catching level of prominence and Cobb had to close his eyes to keep from letting his eyes map the sweet, crushed curves of her flesh, swallowing as he moved to stand before her, hands in pockets, penitent.

“It’s not what you think –“ he started, only to find her close, so much so that she tilted her head back to glare at him, hands on her hips, somehow bracketing herself within his space, mouth twisted bitterly, her eyes too bright, too shiny for just fury.

“What I _think_? What I THINK, Cobb, is that you lied to us, to all of us – I don’t know why, I don’t even know HOW this is still an issue for you but obviously it is because ONCE AGAIN you endangered all of us because your subconscious is SO FAR beyond your control that –“

“That _what_ , Ariadne?” She’s not the only one who can invade personal space, he mused, lifting his hands and stepping forward, his palms against the amber tinted wall behind her, his form curved over hers, towering as he looked directly down into her eyes. “That I’d hesitate again? Let her rule me? Let her ruin me – us?”

Ariadne swallowed visibly, her tone still angry even though she appeared to tremble lightly now.

“Her very _existence_ represents a threat, Cobb. I – I _saw_ you talk to her, _banish her_... and now she’s back? What – what happened Cobb?”

Her disappointment in him was palpable, a physical presence between them, and Cobb pushed himself further forward, feeling it like a barrier against his skin, keeping him from simply crushing himself against her as she innocently curved herself between his body and the wall now at her back.

“What you saw back in limbo, was _real_ , Ariadne. I left my guilt over her death behind me when I left with Saito – what you saw _today_ was a glitch in my conscience, an echo of a vow I once took to a woman I thought I’d never get over.”

Her jaw clenched and her eyes burned anew. “There’s no goddamn room for glitches Cobb, not in our business – you _know that_ and you can’t expect me to just take you at your word purely because you _think_ she’s gone now, she SHOT AT ME Cobb – she, _YOU_ tried to KILL me!”

Dom sighed, contemplating the damage it would do to the team to allow her to go on thinking as she did, or to try and smooth it over with platitudes that she would only partially believe and wholly resent – or he could, of course, tell her the truth.

Arthur would likely kill him.

“I didn’t try to kill you Ariadne, the fragments of my marriage did.”

She blinked.

He closed the distance between them, watched her eyes blur and refocus on his as his mouth  
hovered a few scant inches from hers.

“I _think_ ,” he whispered, “that my subconscious attacked you because it didn’t know quite how to deal with _wanting_ you.”

Her eyes went wide and she trembled visibly.

“ _Cobb_?” she whispered and he saw her fingers twitch towards her discarded clutch bag, no doubt longing for the totem placed within, and he smiled at her uncertainty.

“Yes,” he confirmed huskily, and pressed his mouth to hers, hard and unrelenting as she gasped, his tongue darting in to lap quickly at hers, pulling back with a sharp nip to her lower lip to stare intently into her dark eyes. “I _want_ you Ariadne – god help me, _I want you_.”

An inarticulate cry broke free of her throat, and he would have pulled back except that she had thrown herself forwards, hands tight in the front of his jacket, holding him to her. “ _Dom_...” she murmured throatily and lifted her mouth to his.

For a few bright, blinding moments he allowed himself to crush her against the wall, tongue stabbing deeply into her mouth as his hands roamed from her waist to her impossibly fragile throat, the husky, purr-like sounds pouring past her lips into his, setting his hips grinding against her, inwardly cursing her tiny stature for their lack of alignment.

“Couldn’t believe it when I saw you,” he growled, tearing their mouths apart, dipping to haul her up on a gasp, his wide palms almost meeting at her waist, her legs automatically parting to wrap around him, revealing golden hued stocking tops and he groaned, pressing his hardness to the hot apex of her thighs, “all goddamn light and heat like fucking sunshine in your dress and all I wanted was to tear it off you, couldn’t, _couldn’t_ let myself think it – tried so hard to see the beautiful, _sweet_ girl I knew, but all I saw was you, Ariadne, and I fucking _burned_ with it.”

She whimpered, writhing, and he crushed her to the wall with his hips, one hand dropping to stroke over the sleek hotness of her exposed skin over the top of her stockings, the other spearing into her hair to twist her mouth beneath his, each of them moaning as his wandering hand pushed her dress almost completely to her waist.

“What you _saw_ ,” he muttered thickly as she bucked and keened, his fingers slipping into her panties, “was what was left of my marriage rebelling at being superseded by _you_ – and how did I react, Ariadne?” He twisted and pressed his thumb against her even as his fingers slid inside and she rocked against him, crying his name breathlessly against his throat, sobbing as he pulled his hand free, gripping harshly at the soft, damp lace, “I shot her fucking dead. For _you_.”

And he ripped her panties free, swallowing her startled cry before spinning them both to drop her, roughly, on her back along the dark expanse of one of Saito’s leather sofas, staring down at her hungrily as she gazed back up at him, eyes flickering between the obvious thickness pushing at his fly and the heated gaze boring down and into her.

She shifted, dress still high about her waist, her drawn up thighs and slick high heels an obscene frame for her exposed sex and he groaned softly as she reached up to drag down her bodice, palming her breasts and biting her lip with an almost embarrassed whimper of pleasure.

“Wanted you,” she gasped, her hips rocking up against nothing as he rubbed his thumb over the button of his fly, “wanted you from the first day – the dream, before I realised –  
thought you were hitting on me instead of hiring me.” She smiled, breathless and jubilant and Cobb all but ripped his zipper down.

“Got you every way now,” he rasped, “Wanted your talent, your mind first – this is just an unbelievable _bonus_ that you happen to be _excruciatingly beautiful_.”

He dropped down, palming his cock even as he crouched over her writhing form on the leather, “Best of both worlds,” he muttered and pressed her thighs wide apart, a hot wide palm on each stocking top as leant down to place a hard, messy kiss on the hot, pulsing core of her, drinking in her strangled scream as he enthusiastically tongued her clit.

He slipped a hand up, over the scrunched folds of her dress to mesh with her fingers briefly, twisting to tweak and roll a nipple between them, squeezing her small, taut breast as she sobbed and begged, hips rolling beneath his mouth 'til he drew back, leaning up to soothe her with a kiss, groaning deeply as she proceeded to suck herself back off his tongue, bucking up against him, his thick cock leaking where it pressed against her thigh, fractured demands escaping her lips between kisses – _now, fuck, do it NOW Cobb, fuck me, fuck me, FUCK ME..._

Jerking an arm beneath her, he yanked her hips up toward him and thrust in, one hard push inside and they were each hissing, bucking as he filled her.

She hid her face in his throat, biting none too gently as her hands fisted themselves at the shoulders of his jacket. “ _Fuck_ ,” she slurred, gyrating so his cock stretched into her, a full rotation of his heat and thickness pushing them both into sweating, shaking messes before he pulled back and slammed in again, “Fuck yes, Dom, please – please...”

He pulled back, head dropping down to kiss her even as his hips rocked into her, jarring them both, the leather turning slippery between them and she cried out, thrashing between his splayed palms against the sofa, sobbing as he pounded into her again and again.

Snarling, frustrated with a position that left him no room to kiss and suck at any part of her, he pulled out, lifting her even as she whimpered with loss, launching herself against his chest as he hauled her upright, sitting heavily back against the leather with her splayed across his hips, her dress no more than a rich, golden banner, rucked up about her midriff, thighs wide and waiting, the scant dark curls already wet as she rubbed her fingers over herself and whined gently against the palm cradling her face, sucking his fingers in even as his other dropped to her hip to position her over his rigid, dripping dick, pulling her down onto him as he leant in to lightly bite at one of the sweetly hardened dark nipples before his mouth, groaning thickly as she slipped down to the root.

He leaned back, pulling his fingers free of her lips as he placed his two palms on her waist once more and rocked her deliberately against him, lifting and pulling her down in one slick movement even as she toppled forward, her hands gripping tightly at the sofa back behind him, her forehead resting against his for the space of time it took them both to lift and drop her back against his cock once more.

“ _Yesss_...” She hissed, sealing her mouth over his as she set to riding him in earnest.

They kissed deeply, mouths wet and messy as they gasped and sucked at each other, moaning aloud and anew with each slick sound of their bodies meeting as they rocked and thrust together.

He raised a hand to pluck and squeeze at her breasts, mapping the firm flesh with his tongue bare seconds after, worshipping each tight peak in turn as he dropped his other hand to press his thumb against the wetness where he could feel himself slipping in and out of her, rubbing circles against her clit as she shuddered and thrashed against him, back to begging in mere seconds.

His phone pealed.

Then hers.

“No!” She sobbed, rocking faster, inner muscles tight on him as she ground her hips in circles and he shoved up harder, thumbing at her with precision even as he jerked her mouth back to his.

“It’s ok,” he whispered as he picked up his pace, panting as he felt himself swell and shift within her, scraping just the edge of his blunt thumbnail against her pulsing clit, “You can do it – _come for me_.”

She stuttered atop him, hips jerking slightly as he continued to thrust up, deep into her and his phone rang again as she sobbed, arching away from him, tremors racking her smaller frame, and he pressed his mouth against the base of her throat, sucking and groaning as her internal muscles clamped down on him, gripping his cock as he cried out his pleasure into her skin, emptying himself into her in thick, hot spurts that had them both moaning and bucking.

She collapsed forward, her face pressed against his still-clothed shoulder, circling her hips in a way that left him in no doubt that his pants were likely to be a clear indicator of their activities. He smiled against her throat. Somehow the thought didn’t quite bother him as it should.

Her phone rang, insistent, and she hissed against his jacket, displeased before leaning back (eliciting a hiss from Cobb, still deliciously, firmly seated within her) to snag her clutch and ferociously snatch at her phone.

“Yes?” she snapped, still too out of breath to sound anything but fucked out, her eyes closing wearily as Arthur’s calm tones drifted from the earpiece and Cobb sighed.

He knew the signs.

She hung up and gave him a sad, almost embarrassed look.

“Time to scatter?” He smiled wryly, aware that his hair had flopped into his eyes and that his cock was only just softening inside her.

“There’s a car at each designated exit.” She nodded, smiling softly as she carefully slid herself up and off him, each unable to suppress a moan as they slid against each other’s sensitised flesh.

She stood up, stepping back to tug her dress back into place, first hiding her stocking-tops and damp thighs, then her taut, stubble burned tits, smiling, cat-like and serene as she watched him watching her, tucking himself away, still half hard as he let his eyes drift greedily over her one more time.

He stood slowly, coming to stand before her as she popped her phone back into her clutch, favouring him with an insouciant smile.

“Well, it was a _pleasure_ working with you again, Mr. Cobb.” She held out her hand, eyes sparkling mischievously and Cobb grinned back, clasping her fingers in his before jerking her forward for a deep, bone melting kiss.

“Likewise.” He grunted into her gasping mouth, swaying in place as he darted a hand up her skirt to press quickly against the wet heat there, “I hope to collaborate with you again soon.”

He stepped back, releasing her as she stared at him from under heavy lids, pupils blown wide again and he bit his lip. “Go to your damned designated exit, Ariadne,” he growled, “Or I won’t be held responsible for what Saito finds us doing in here.”

She blinked, blushing and turned, walking swiftly away to the double doors, even as Cobb spun, making his way to the window, preparing to drop down to the next floor and simply disappear into the grounds.

He turned, watching her depart through the doorway with an odd pang and a decided twitch in an area he’d considered long dead before tonight, slipping his hand into his pocket to slide the ruined lace of her panties through his fingers.

He smiled.

Oh yes. It was _GOOD_ to be back.

Fin.  


**Author's Note:**

> Warnings: Angst, Violence, Language, and Unsafe Sex.  
> Disclaimer: INCEPTION and its lovely molestable characters belong to Mr Nolan who Incepted me into borrowing them: You’ve no one to blame but yourself Chris!  
> Dedication: For Rinny who wanted Het!Porn for reasons I’ve not quite fathomed yet ;P


End file.
